


as sweet as the sound

by AjaysLullaby



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Something sort of soft, alchohol ment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24794629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AjaysLullaby/pseuds/AjaysLullaby
Summary: Jesse and Angela have a discussion while Angela is a bit drunk
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	as sweet as the sound

Angela Ziegler was upset. She was upset, felt like throwing up, and very very much drunk. She lifted the bottle in her hand and went to take another swig. The arc of her arm was interrupted by another hand, one darker and more calloused than her own.

She frowned, head tilting back, following the arm up to a shoulder, which lead to a chest, and the rest of the body. The head - Jesse's head - was frowning at her, inviting mouth slanted down. It made her feel things she couldn't describe. So she didn't try to, pushing them from her mind between one breath and the next.

She frowned back, thoughts slipping between the fingers of her mind like water.

"Jesse?" She asked, confused.

He sighed and crouched down next to her, hand forcing hers back down. She didn't bother resisting. He was stronger than her, especially in this position. The bottle clanked on the floor softly, her hand still wrapped around it. His slid down to cover hers, gently prying stiff fingers from around the neck.

"Hey Ang. I think ya've had enough, alright? Besides, you need to learn to share a little." He gave her the crooked smile that always made her warm inside. He took the bottle from her hand with the opposite hand, his left still holding hers. 

She wondered at it a little, why she felt so warm and content inside when moments ago she was feeling the overwhelming guilt she always felt when she failed to save somebody. It never got any easier. And yet here was Jesse McCree, holding her hand and saying a few words and suddenly her drunken mind was too occupied with _him_ to feel guilty. 

"B-but, I wasn't done drinkin', cowboy," she said, making her eyes sad and large as she could. His hand shifted in hers, fingers slipping between her own. She grabbed on to him, thoughts and body focused. It was the only thing she wanted to concentrate on. The guilt was still there, lurking as it always was. But this time, it withdrew enough for her not to feel the sting of tears behind her eyes and her heart in her throat, restricting her breathing. He made her feel _better_ , not complete or whole like the stories always said, but he made her feel less...alone, more forgiving of herself. It was like he reached inside of her mind, and flipped on a lamp. Not too bright, not overwhelming and all-encompassing, but enough to keep her afloat and aware. 

She leaned into him as he settled next to her, hands still intertwined. He lifted the bottle and sipped from it, making a face. She could only assume it was at the taste. It wasn't particularly good whiskey, cheap and bought quickly, downed even quicker. She should have raided Jack's stash. He always had good taste. 

"Ya good there Ang?" He asked, continuing to sip at the bottle, regardless of taste. 

She leaned her head onto the shoulder next to her and nodded, eyes drooping.

"Jus' thinking. What took you so long to get here, Jesse?" 

He hummed, head tilting to rest on top of hers. "Reyes got caught up talking to Reinhardt and blocked the doorway. Had to take the long way around. I'm sorry Angel." 

She murmured softly, no real words coming out of her mouth. She was comfortable, warm. The weight of the world hoisted off her shoulders for once. She felt...lighter. If only for for a little while.

"Jesse," she mumbled, "I don't know what to do."

He paused in his next sip, considering her words. "You push through, Ang. You survive. Help those you can. Mourn and move on for those you can't. If you dwell, you die a slow death, one of your own making. Don't do that to yourself Angela. Don't crucify yourself."

Her mind swam with his words. Is that what she was doing? Crucifying herself over the ones she couldn't save, denying herself the ability to move on? She was stuck; clawing for a breath she couldn't quite grasp. And yet that was exactly what Jesse had given her. A breath of fresh air, a rope to use to climb out of the pit she had been sinking into without realizing.

"Danke, Jesse."

He put the bottle down and shifted around to face her, calloused hand coming to rest on her cheek as she looked up at him.

"Angela, you ain't gotta thank me. You just...needed a reminder to save yourself."

Her blue eyes met his brown, and she inched closer, breath fanning across lips. "Then I must thank you, otherwise I would drown."

He looked down at her and sighed, shaking his head before leaning in and resting his forehead on hers.

"Whatever floats your boat, darlin'. Just try not to let yourself be lost again."

She hummed and closed her eyes, content. Jesse shifted her around, getting to his knees and lifting her up.

"I think it's time for you to sleep, Ang."

She nodded into his chest as he placed her on the bed. 

"Stay with me?"

He slipped down beside her, hand holding hers. "Always."


End file.
